


Dressed for the Occasion

by Madamn_Resident



Series: Holding Out for Revenge [2]
Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bromance to Romance, Death Threats, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Recovery, Revenge, Slow Build, Torture, Trauma, Vendettas, Vengeful Chris, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2021-04-02
Packaged: 2021-04-11 22:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madamn_Resident/pseuds/Madamn_Resident
Summary: After getting hospitalized by a man he thought he'd killed, Chris Redfield struggles to become the leader he once was. But around every corner there's an obstacle just waiting to push him down.Luckily Piers is there to catch him when he falls.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Albert Wesker, Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Series: Holding Out for Revenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555468
Comments: 53
Kudos: 179





	1. November 8th

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an avid Chris/Piers shipper but I honestly think they look cute together ^_^ lol so this is what came out. Sorry if Piers is out of character or if the story falls flat. This was actually really hard for me to write. Only because I'm a solid Leon/Wesker fan and their povs are like the only povs I'm able to write for some reason XD but I'll try my best with these two <3

November 8th 2010

It always happens the same way.

Chris would open the door to reveal a manifestation of evil in the flesh. The image of a once bright star now fallen and dark. A gaze that bore straight through the night. A smile that conveyed a secret craving.

A craving for blood.

And in the next moment, Chris would feel pain. Always pain. A chain of agony that would coarse through every bone in his body while the echo of a vile and wicked laugh danced through his ears. But through it all, he could hear a voice. A frail and desperate cry that reminded him of a time when he was a child. When he’d wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of nightmarish screams.

“_Chris!_”

He was suddenly falling. For what seemed like forever. Deep down into the darkness. Alone in his helplessness with nothing but a foul promise as company in the spiraled depths of his mind.

_“I’m going to break every bone in your body.”_

Those words stirred a familiar crushing sensation that branched out through his limbs. Chris wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He wanted to run but he wouldn’t.

Not when there was nowhere to run to.

“Chris!”

Chris woke up with a gasp and he immediately shot his gaze around his shadowed room, spotting Claire sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him like a mother would look at their sick child. Which was unsettling because Claire was his younger sister. Chris was the one who was supposed to be the protector. Not the other way around.

“Are you alright?” Claire’s voice was soft amidst the wind that creaked along the walls and floors.

Chris let out a small shaky breath before easing back down on the bed and turning away from her.

“I’m fine.” Chris answered. His words were equally quiet. As if the both of them were afraid of stirring up whatever monsters that lingered outside the safety of their house. Their _new_ house. It wasn’t like they could ever go back to Chris’ old apartment after what happened on Christmas.

“I’m worried about you, Chris.” Claire was saying after a long and disconcerting pause.

“I’m fine, Claire.” Chris repeated motionlessly. He wasn’t looking at her but he could feel her gaze heavy on his back. He expected her to say something else. Expected her to try and comfort him some more.

But she didn’t.

He heard her stand up and head for the door but not before lingering at the edge of the room and doling out a small,

“Goodnight.”

She was gone. Leaving Chris in the silence of his room and in the silence of his mind.

//////////

“Is everything ok?” O’Brian asked during one of Chris’s weekly check-ins.

“Yes.” Chris answered bleakly from the other side of his desk.

He couldn’t stop the rise of agitation bubbling to the surface. Especially during these tedious weekly reports with the BSAA advisor. He shouldn’t be here sitting in this office or sitting at home playing house with Claire. There was really only once place where he belonged.

“How’s your new partner treating you?” asked the BSAA advisor.

“Fine.” Chris answered briskly.

“Any problems?”

“And if there were?” the brunette counter-questioned, his anger continuing to build. O’Brian flipped the report on his desk closed and stapled his finger together as he leaned back in his office chair.

“You know it’s a slow process to reassign partners.”

Chris fought hard not to roll his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

It wasn’t a secret that Chris wanted to get back out onto the field. He’d made it perfectly clear just how much he wanted to capture Wesker and find Leon. But O’Brian wasn’t inclined to give him what he wanted of course.

“Chris, you’re one of our best agents-”

“Which is exactly why you should be sending me out there to look for that asshole-”

“You’re still in the recovery process. Overexerting your body is just a recipe for permanent damage. In the case of Albert Wesker... we’ve been trying to find him for months now and haven’t found a trace of him anywhere in the country.”

“Then maybe you should start looking outside the fucking country-”

“Redfield.” O’Brian intoned, giving him a hardnosed look. “You should be focusing on getting better. Not a personal vendetta against your arch enemy.”

“It’s not about a personal vendetta, damn it!” Chris snapped, slamming his open palm on O’Brian’s desk and standing up from his chair. “This is about Leon! He’s still out there somewhere!”

“Even if he is, you do realize he’s an enemy of this organization now.” informed O’Brian.

Chris paused, unable to voice his thoughts out loud. He’d read the reports of that fateful day when they surrounded Leon’s apartment. The BSAA’s mission had been to incapacitate the tyrant and bring him in for experimentation. But Leon had turned a blind eye, betrayed them all and ended up saving Wesker instead. Only for his actions to result in the deaths of an entire BSAA team and the critical injuries of a handful of others. Including Claire.

Maybe O’Brian wasn’t wrong when saying Leon was their enemy now. But that didn’t change who Leon was before all this. He was Chris’ comrade, Claire's hero. Hell, they might as well have been _brothers_. And bonds like that never broke. No matter what.

“He’s still one of us.” Chris stated resolutely.

O’Brian wasn’t the least bit sentimental at his determination. He waved Chris out of his office and uncapped a pen to scribble on his open planner.

“Give me an update on your recovery in a week, Redfield. And maybe then we’ll talk about Leon.”

//////////

Chris tried to focus on his breathing rather than on the burning aches and pains in his muscles. His arms wobbled under the dumbbells in his hands, doing a piss poor job on his fourth set of bent-over rows today.

“Come on, Captain. You’re almost there!”

Chris huffed, sweat clinging to his forehead. His back ached, his arms shook, and his legs threatened to totter over. But then a hand clasped him on the shoulder to steady his balance and another hand alleviated some of the weight in his death grip.

_Of course Piers is always to the rescue_, Chris snorted to himself.

Not to say that Pier’s company wasn’t entirely unwelcomed. It was just…

“I gotcha, captain.” reassured the younger brunette, looking every bit the supportive puppy dog.

Chris rolled his eyes. This was exactly the point he was trying to make to O’Brian when the BSAA adviser first stuck them together. Chris didn’t need a personal assistant to watch over him like a playground monitor. He needed to be on his own. To learn how to pick himself up if he ever fell down. It was the only way he’d ever get stronger.

“Piers, I’m trying to improve myself here.” Chris vocalized with a gruff huff.

“I know captain. And I’m trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

Chris’ first instinct was to punch the daylights out of him but he knew that would only earn him flak from O’Brian. And besides… he wasn’t sure his punch would really do any damage at this point. It felt like he had spaghetti arms.

“Gee, thanks.” Chris all but gritted out through his teeth.

He gave up on strength training for now and decided to just call it a day. He could do with a few extra hours of sleep anyway since last night he’d barely gotten any. Fuckin’ nightmares were occurring more frequently these days. He pushed the dumbbells into Piers’ hands and strode over to the doors with a slight limp in step. He hated that limp but at least he didn’t need a crutch anymore.

He stopped by the bench to snatch up his bag.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you when I see you.” Chris called over his shoulder.

“Wait up!” Chris could hear Piers calling from behind him, hurrying to grab his own stuff and follow Chris outside.

It was dark out despite how early the evening was. Perks of the winter solstice. It was also snowing and Chris could see his own breath fogging up amidst the small flurries. The doors slammed open behind him and it actually sounded like Piers was trying to catch his breath. Chris tried not to look too proud of himself.

“Captain! I’m coming with you!”

No surprise there. He’s been walking Chris home these past couple of weeks after his physical therapy sessions. As if Piers wasn’t just his own personal assistant but his own personal guard too.

Geez, it was ridiculous.

But Chris didn’t fight it. He usually didn’t have enough energy to fight after one of his _strenuous_ workouts anyway. And he stretched the term _strenuous_ in every sense of the way because any other person would be able to do his entire workout list in half the time it took him to complete it. It made him feel absolutely pathetic and he couldn’t help but reminisce the days when he could do a hundred reps and run a thousand yards without breaking a sweat.

“You alright, Captain?” Piers spoke in the encompassing tranquility that sequestered the empty streets. The only noise that idled down the sidewalk were two sets of footsteps and the soft sift of snow.

Piers seemed to know when Chris’ mind was tumbling down the gutter. Guess he’s gotten to know the older brunette well enough these past weeks to recognize the signs on his face.

“I’m fine, Piers.” Chris replied. But his words were empty. As empty as the streets. People had a habit of hiding in their homes when darkness fell across the sky. But Chris would never criticize anyone for that. Not when there were monsters lurking in unsuspecting places. And in unsuspecting minds.

“You can talk to me if you want. About anything.” Piers added after a few quiet moments.

“I’m fine, Piers.” Chris repeated, the words rang hollow to his own ears but Piers didn’t say anything else after that.

They soon reached Chris’ residence. It was a townhouse, part of a row that sat along the road. The cookie cutter homes were all blue with the same colored trimmings. The only difference was their distinguished numbering. Piers followed Chris all the way to his doorstep where the front entrance opened before the older brunette could even touch the handle.

Light from inside poured over both men and it appeared to be coming solely from the beaming smile the younger Redfield was projecting.

In this moment Chris couldn’t help but think how strange this all was. Sitting before his tired eyes was the perfect image of a life he’s always wanted. A bright warm home, surrounded by friends and family. But the cold reality of it was veiled behind a bloody curtain. This wasn’t the life he dreamed about one day having. No...

Not when his mind and body were in broken shambles. Not when his sister was hiding behind a fake and forced smile.

Not when Leon was gone.

“Chris! I’m glad you’re home! I made pasta for dinner.”

Chris breathed in a deep exhale and forced on a smile of his own.

“Sounds great, Claire.” then he lightly sniffed. “Smells great too.”

Claire’s smile dampened, the lines of worry almost seeping through the cracks of her mask at Chris’ obvious act. But she didn’t say anything about it and instead opened the door wider.

“Well, I made enough for the whole week. Piers would you like to join us?” Claire knew the former soldier about as long as Chris has but she didn’t hesitate to extend her invitation to her brother’s _guardian_.

Chris walked past her and he heard Piers give a nervous laugh before he took a step down from the porch.

“Actually I should probably get going. I-” Could he sense the tension in the air? If he did he was bad at hiding it. He took another step back, nearly stumbling onto the sidewalk but he caught himself before he could fall. He tore off in a hasty retreat down the road “-I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye Piers!” Claire called after him. It was mute a moment before Chris heard a far off voice echoing from outside.

“…bye Claire!”

Claire let go of the door and it swung shut on its own.

“Is it really so bad having a new partner around?” Claire asked innocently enough. It was pretty obvious how much Chris was against the idea from the beginning. There was no hiding the exasperation in his eyes. The older sibling slipped his bag off his shoulder and it landed on the floor with a thump.

“I don’t need a new partner, Claire. I- I need…” he stopped mid-sentence, turning away from her to stare bleakly at the wall.

A wave of grief and desperation washed over him and he struggled to pull his mind back into that blank slate of detachment. It was the only way he could operate these days. Besides, he doubted he even had to finish his sentence. Claire probably knew what he meant. It’s all Chris has been going on about ever since he was able to talk again.

“Chris…” Claire’s voice came gently from behind him. “It’s ok. I know what you’re going through.”

Chris rounded on her and searched her face for the truth.

“Do you?” he asked, somewhat doubtful even though she had been there every step of the way throughout this nightmare.

From being there during Christmas when Wesker showed up at his apartment and ended up breaking every bone in his body. To being threatened at the very hospital Chris had been in, to getting her ribs shattered when she’d tried to hunt down the tyrant with a team of BSAA agents.

If anyone understood just what kind of monster Wesker was, it was her. Yet Chris couldn’t shake the allusion that she’d moved on from everything he’d done.

Most of Claire’s body was already fully healed. Her arm strong enough to punch sandbags, her neck no longer bruised. Her shattered ribs were even able to support her upper body now. She’s always been so strong, always making a comeback from anything thrown her way.

And here Chris was struggling to do the same.

“Chris…” and Claire looked slightly hurt at his words. “How could you say that? I’ve gone what you’ve gone through. Perhaps I came out of it a bit less crippled but just as wounded.”

“Then how come I’m the only one that hasn’t forgotten about Leon?” Chris countered.

No one else ever talked about it. Like Leon was all but a memory now. Discarded in a storm of ice and snow. Claire paused to release a short huff, giving him a perturbed stare at the mention of their former comrade, their former _friend_.

“Chris, we’ve talked about this. Leon is-”

“Is what? Dead?” Chris interrupted almost angrily. “How could you say that when you didn’t even see a body?”

“We had another team sent out to that same location after me and Jill escaped and they didn’t find anything-” Claire started but again Chris didn’t let her finish.

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead, Claire! If anything it means he’s still out there somewhere-”

“Chris, please!” Claire yelled desperately. Making Chris fall silent for once. Claire gave her bother a pleading look. “I thought we agreed to put this all behind us for now. You’re still recovering. And the last thing I want is to see you get hurt again.”

Chris closed his eyes, the stiffness in his limbs winding down. He hadn’t meant to upset her. He just didn’t know what else to do in the current state he was in. It felt like he was stuck. Stuck in a broken body, stuck in a broken mind without anything to hold onto other than his anger and pain.

“I’m sorry.” said Chris, letting Claire’s words wash over him like a calming tide. “I know…I… I’m trying, Claire. It’s just… it’s….” He opened his eyes and looked at her, feeling hopeless. Feeling small.

Feeling like they were kids again, huddled in a closet together with the rage of the thunderstorm booming outside. Back then they couldn’t do anything but wait for it to pass.

And it was the same way now. The both of them trying to wither out a storm that neither of them had any control over.

Claire took a step toward him, lips parted and readying to speak, to say something. To _save_ something.

But in Chris' view, he wasn’t the one that needed saving. He turned away. His feet carried him further down the hall and to the staircase.

“I don’t feel like eating dinner tonight.” He spoke over his shoulder, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.


	2. November 9th

The next morning Chris woke up feeling as tired as he did before he went to sleep. He couldn’t remember much of what he dreamed about but he assumed that it was the same occurring nightmare he’s had these past few weeks. He was probably just getting more desensitized to it.

He stretched his groggy limbs and went down into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, already smelling the sweet tang of fruit and sugar on his way.

When he walked through the doorway he spotted Claire by the stove, flipping over what looked like the makings of a pancake. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of his approach and gave him a warm smile despite how last night had ended.

“Hey, champ. I made breakfast!” she proclaimed, looking proud of her handy work. There were already sunny-side eggs on a serving plate along with bacon and sausage. Coffee was steadily brewing in the machine. Claire turned back to the pan and slid the pancake onto an empty plate. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget the blueberries.”

Chris’ expression softened, his chest weakly fluttering from how hard she was trying.

“Claire…” Chris began softly. He felt guilty about last night. About how he’d left it. “I…”

She turned around and placed the plate onto the table, looking up at him without the faintest hint of anger or sadness.

“Well? It’s gonna to get cold, silly.”

Chris paused but then ultimately decided to leave it at that. She _did_ go through all this trouble and all. He gave his sister a grateful nod.

“Thanks, Claire.”

She smiled back at him.

“You can thank me by doing the dishes.”

//////////

Claire headed out to the Terrasave branch after breakfast and once the dishes were finished Chris left shortly afterwards to head over to the BSAA headquarters.

The board of directives hadn’t exactly given him much to do after getting royally fucked up by Wesker but because of Chris’ resolve and tenacity to be useful in some way, they decided to give him a desk job for now while he was still actively attending physically therapy.

And Chris absolutely hated it. They didn’t give him mountains of paper work by any means, just the bare minimum to keep him occupied and stress free. Which was what sucked about it. He felt like the bench warmer on his football team. Not allowed to go out onto the field, not trusted enough for more complex tasks.

The whole situation and everyone’s sheltering treatment was enough to drive him crazy.

So later that evening after everyone went home, Chris did something crazy.

He decided to sneak into the records room.

Chris just couldn’t go on like this anymore. These past couple of months were starting to take their toll on him. It seemed like everyone and everything was doing their damnedest to keep him from being the agent that he was. To keep him protected, shielded, from the horrors of the outside world. When in reality it had been Chris who had been doing the shielding, the _protecting_, against the hidden corruption of evil organizations for as long as he can remember. The fact that everyone was treating him otherwise these days made him furious beyond reason.

Which was way he found himself here in the BSAA’s data base, downloading a massive amount of sensitive documents onto one of his compacting flash drives. He wouldn’t have time to look through the files here so he’d just have to take it with him and set up his own personal home base to work out of. He mainly targeted files pertaining Leon and Wesker’s history. Every spec of data he could get on them would help him in finding where they went.

_Hopefully_.

The files finished downloading and he quickly shut down the computer and snatched up his flash drive before slipping out of the records room with Jill’s stolen security card. He’d nabbed it off her during her lunch break, mentally apologizing beforehand.

Now in the parking lot and on his way to his car, a voice suddenly erupted out of nowhere behind him.

“Hey captain!”

“Geezes fucking Christ!” Chris startled, whirling around and jumping backwards. He spotted Piers standing before him, smiling as usual, and looking like every aspect the ‘golden boy’ in the setting sun.

“Headed to your physical therapy session?” the younger man asked. They were usually held in the evening after work and Chris had completely forgotten that Piers was expected to know his schedule. For fuck’s sake, was he expected to follow Chris around too?

“W-well, ye-” Chris struggled to answer.

“Cause I was thinking that maybe we could ditch that today.” Piers interjected before he could finish.

Chris paused, his left brow twitching. Either out of aggravation or bafflement, he wasn’t sure. But if going along with Piers meant that the younger man didn’t suspect what Chris was up to then he was happy to oblige.

“Er…okay. What did you have in mind?” Chris asked.

//////////

Chris wasn’t sure how they ended up at a bar of all places but he supposed it wasn’t the worst place he’s wound up in.

“Have you ever been here before?” Piers asked as they entered through the doors and walked further in. The sounds of laughter and music filled Chris’ ears and the warmth of the furnace melted away the winter chill on his clothes.

“…I don’t think so.” answered Chris, glancing around. He didn’t recognize this place. Maybe they opened recently.

“Oh! Let’s go over here! I saved us a seat.” stated Piers, darting behind Chris to push him by the shoulders. Chris dug his heels into the hardwood floor and shot a skeptical look back at the other man.

“Wait, what?”

But instead of answering, Piers shoved him forward and Chris stumbled past one of the wooden columns and saw a half circled booth with Sheva, and Jill sitting in it.

“Chris!” Jill called.

“Hey, partner.” Sheva greeted.

“Wa-” before Chris could ask what was going on, Piers appeared at his side and gave him a nervous smile.

“You’re always working hard every day to get better, you hardly take any time to hang out and just relax. So I thought I’d stage a little get together.” Piers explained.

“Piers… you did this?” Chris asked in disbelief. He was shocked for lack of a better word. He didn’t know Piers cared that much about his social life. He didn’t know Piers even cared about him for that matter. He just thought that his partner followed orders in everything he did.

Piers winced at Chris’ less then sanguine reaction.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m-”

“Chris! Come over and sit down already!” Sheva ordered.

Looks like he’d have to express his gratitude later. The both of them approached the table and slid into the booth while also sliding into an easy conversation. Most of the subject matter was revolved around the general aspects of:

‘How are you doing?’

‘How was your day?’

‘How’s working alongside a new partner?’ Which was Sheva’s question and it was something both Chris and her and even Jill could joke about. And Piers took it rather well.

Too well.

Laughing along like a true sport with all that positive and boundless energy.

He really was like the perfect emotional support dog.

Not that Chris was comparing him to a dog but it was hard not too with those puppy dog eyes.

“I’m gonna go up and order some nachos.” Jill suddenly stated, standing up from her seat, Piers moved out of the way so she could get out. “Chris, would you like to come with me?”

That uncanny undertone wasn’t exactly subtle but Chris wouldn’t say no to nachos. He followed Jill to the main bar where wooden stools lined around the vintage countertops. Patrons bustled around them. This place was getting more popular by the hour. Jill motioned to the barkeep and ordered some nachos, Chris decided to order another beer.

When the barkeep walked away, Jill faced Chris with a steadfast scowl. She lifted her hand, open palm face up and quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Where is it?”

Chris blinked. How the fuck did she know who exactly-

His mind screeched to a halt at the unexpected realization.

_Fucking Piers._

Should’ve known the younger brunette had been acting way too casual to think he hadn’t noticed what Chris was up to. Not that Jill wasn’t capable of figuring him out eventually.

Chris sighed. He reached into his back pocket and placed her security card in her hand.

“Do I even want to know what you were doing with this?” she asked stiffly, safely pocketing her stolen property.

“Jill, look-”

“Oh wait, I already figured it out.” she interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “Chris, what were you thinking? You don’t have access to that type of stuff for a reason. If O’Brian finds out-”

Chris leveled her with a look of his own.

“And will he?” Chris couldn’t stop the question from escaping his thoughts.

“I’m not the one you should be worried about.” Jill placated resolutely. “What if someone saw you? And you do know we have security cameras-”

“I shut those down beforehand.” Chris argued. Jill closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

“What I’m saying is, it’s not worth the risk.”

Chris’s gaze turned questioning.

“What?”

“Don’t you think I’ve already done what you’ve done? Leon was my friend too. And Wesker-” she paused midway as if her memories were instantly flooded with images of the torture and torment she’d endured at the hands of that coldblooded tyrant. She let out another exhale, this one to calm her nerves. “…I have just as much of a reason to go after him.” Jill stated. She looked Chris in the eyes and continued.

“And I’ve tried, Chris. I really did. After what happened in the forest, they sent another team to search the area. Despite Claire’s hysterics, I went back with them. When we couldn’t find anything I tried looking through all the records, all of Wesker’s history, I’ve exhausted every lead I thought we had into finding him.” Jill explained, sounding tired by the end of it.

“But he’s gone, Chris. There isn’t a trace of him anywhere. There’s no trace of Leon either. And it’s not something you should be focusing on. You should be focusing on getting better-”

“Damn it, Jill.” Chris nearly griped, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “Don’t fucking tell me to take it easy! I’m tired of people forcing me to sit still and telling me to just forget about it.”

“I’m not telling you to forget about it.”

“Then why the hell does it seem like I’m the only one who cares about what happened to Leon?”

Jill suddenly went quiet, taking a considerable amount of time before speaking again.

“Chris,” Jill said evenly, never breaking eye contact. She seemed…sad and almost wary of the words that came next. “You weren’t there… Leon… he _chose_ Wesker.”

Chris stared at her for a speechless moment. But after that moment passed he blinked and shook his head. He couldn’t believe she’d have the gall to say something like that.

“No, Jill. You’re wrong. Leon must’ve felt like he didn’t have any other options. He would never go with a psychotic murderer _willingly_.”

What was scary was that Jill didn’t even argue with him, merely closed her eyes and turned away.

“I’m sorry, Chris.” she whispered. And Chris’ heart crushed at the raw honesty in her tone. It was then that he remembered the words Claire had spoken to him what seemed like only hours ago.

_"You’re still recovering. And the last thing I want is to see you get hurt again."_

"I'm sorry, Chris. But it's true."

//////////

The rest of the night Chris felt aloofly detached in the midst of the lively bar. Piers and Jill decided to go and order more drinks and Sheva decided to challenge Chris to a game of billiards. The absence of the other two gave Chris and his old partner some time to catch up. He’s had quite a few drinks so far. By now he could hardly see the cue balls on the table. He missed his next shot spectacularly but he doubted it was the fault of his buzz and more the fault of his preoccupied brain.

And Sheva noticed.

“You ok, partner?”

It was nice to hear the old camaraderie coming from her mouth even though they weren’t partners anymore. But when Chris looked into her eyes, he knew that there was a bond still shared between them that would always link them as a team.

Chris sighed and supported most of his weight on his pool cue. His eyes darted off along the floor, his far off stare wandering around aimlessly like his thoughts were.

“Hey,” Sheva's tone was soft, so much so that Chris could barely hear it over all the background noise. She hopped up onto the edge of the billiards table and settled into a comfortable position close to Chris. “Tonight’s about having fun-” Sheva was saying. Chris eventually straightened up to give her an apologetic look.

“I know…and I…I’m sorry.” Chris said, struggling to smooth out his sentence. They came out here for him to try and lift his spirits. And here he was taking it all for granted.

Sheva’s eyebrows wilted at the expression on his face and she looked a little regretful with her choice of words. She probably knew what was going through his head at that moment.

“…no… Chris. I…I’m the one whose sorry.” Sheva’s tone was still quite. Her eyes shifted away from him, her hands wringing around the pool cue. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Sheva…” Chris wanted to let her know that it wasn’t her fault. None of this was her fault but Sheva didn’t want to hear it from him. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“When I heard-…about everything, I was already halfway back to Africa when it happened-”

“Sheva, it’s fine.” Chris quickly cut in. There was enough guilt going around for everyone to share. But none of them were supposed to share it. Because there was really only one man to blame for all this.

“…you came back as soon as you could.”

“Not soon enough.” Sheva uttered mostly to herself. Her grip on the pool cue tightened until her knuckles started to turn white. Her features began to alter from sadness to slow inklings of anger. She turned her face away to stare daggers at the opposing wall.

“God if I could…If I could do something, _anything_, I’d fucking kill that bastard that did this to you.” she seethed. And then her eyes shot back to him with worry and regret again. “Not that… not that you’re anything _less_. You still strong, Chris. Always have been. Fuck you’re stronger then all of us put together. It’s why you’re still alive.” spoke Sheva reverently. A smile crawled over Chris’ lips at her uplifting words.

“Thanks Sheva.”

“I just…” and Sheva went back to scowling at inanimate objects again, no doubt imagining them as Wesker. “I just wish he had stayed dead.”

_Me too,_ Chris wanted to say but Sheva no doubt already knew.

“Just how the fuck did he come back anyway?” Sheva was saying, grabbing the small block of chalk on the edge of the table and furiously screwing it on the tip of her pool cue. “We hit that fucker with two RPGs in a fucking volcano-“ she was rambling now, more to herself then to Chris. But after a few moments she stopped and looked back at him, once more her expression softened as the anger faded away. As if just looking at Chris took away all her problems. She inhaled a deep steadying breath.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I know we didn’t come here to talk about Wesker. We came here to have fun and now I’m the one whose ruining it.”

“No, you’re not. It’s a topic that was inevitable anyway.”

Sheva looked at him questioningly. 

“What do you mean?”

Chris leaned against the billiards table beside her, his tone turning low as he reflected on everything that was bothering him during the nights he laid awake in bed.

“Me and Jill were talking…I ended up stealing some files from the BSAA database in hopes to find where Wesker went and what happened to Leon. But Jill was telling me she already tried that. And that there isn’t any way to find them.”

“And do you believe her?” Sheva asked uncertainly, perhaps worried about questioning Chris’ trust with the people he worked with.

“Of course I do… I just think… I just think that not enough resources are being utilized in finding him.”

“Why is that? After what he did to you… The guy’s a terrorist, a worldwide threat to society-” Sheva was saying.

“I know… That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” pondered Chris. A minute of silent deliberation passed between them before Sheva spoke up again.

“Maybe everyone's scared.”

Chris’ expression turned skeptical and Sheva continued.

“As far as anyone knows, Wesker is indestructible along with uncontrollable. Maybe they don’t want to risk causing another fallout like Raccoon City and Africa by provoking him again.”

“Sheva-”

“Just think about it, Chris. It makes the most sense.”

“Okay, maybe. But that doesn’t give the BSAA the right to just let Wesker have limitless freedom to do whatever the fuck he wants.”

“No argument there. He should’ve been at least found by now.”

“And that’s what I’m trying to do.” Chris said. “If no one else will look then it’s up to me to finish what I started.”

“… You mean, finishing what _we_ started.”

Chris gave her an adamant look, wondering if she was agreeing with his own resolve or going against it by pacifying him. But she ended up surprising him when she gave an encouraging smile and a fist bump to the shoulder.

“Even after everything and all the time that’s passed, we’re still partners. Maybe not technically but that’s what you’ll always be to me. I want you to know that I’m here. For whatever you need, I’ll be here.” She paused a moment in thought before continuing. “I wanted to give you some space because I knew you were recovering… But I’m glad to see that you're up and walking again, like the tough bastard I know you are.”

Chris chuckled.

“But really, Chris, don’t ever hesitate to call me when you need too. I’m going to be here for you. Through anything. Just like old times.” Sheva vowed. “I’m willing to follow you to hell and back _again_ if it means we can put a stop to Wesker once and for all.”

Chris smiled and Sheva smiled back at him. He bumped her on the shoulder with his own fist and he felt a sense of calmness come over him for the first time in what felt like ages.

“Like old times.”

//////////

By the end of the night, Chris was drunk. Helplessly so. One step out onto the icy sidewalk had him slipping on his feet and taking a nose dive toward the ground.

But luckily, someone was there to catch him.

Chris’ breath caught in his throat, eyes wide and face a little red from all the alcohol. When really it was from his growing embarrassment. He turned his head and his nose almost brushed against Pier’s own. The younger brunette gave him a boosting smile before straightening up and supporting the brunt of Chris’ weight. Which was surprising compared to how much smaller he was to Chris.

“I gotcha, Captain.”

Chris felt his face getting warmer. He hiccupped on a word and blushed again.

“I…er…thanks.” uttered Chris. Piers blinked, an innocent look in his eyes.

"It's what I'm here for."

"No really...I- I... thanks for-"

Piers then quirked his head to the side. “For what?”

“For…” and Chris trailed off, thinking about all the times Piers had been there to catch him whenever he fell. All those times in physical therapy. All those times walking him home. And most all… in this particular moment.

“For always catching me.” Chris murmured, the embarrassment growing more palpable on his face. He used to be the one that caught everyone else. And now he was the one that was always falling.

“I’m sorry.” the older brunette said after an uncomfortable moment. “I…I must be such a bother…”

“You’re not a bother to me, Captain.” Piers reassured. Chris looked at him and Piers was smiling again. A smile so contagious, it had Chris giving a small one in return.

“Chris.”

Piers blinked again. “What?”

“You can call me Chris.” said Chris, his words slightly skewed and he wavered to the side but Piers tightened his grip on him and wrapped Chris’ arm over his shoulders. He was smiling again.

“Okay.” he beamed, looking like he just got promoted. And Chris couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.

“You two ok?” the front door to the bar swung open behind them and Chris heard the tall-tell signs of both Sheva and Jill’s footsteps crushing under the ice.

“We’re fine. I can take him back home.” Piers replied.

“Alright. Just don’t take any detours on the way.” Sheva smirked.

“Be careful.” Jill warned. “The ice is treacherous.”

“Very funny.” Chris bickered with a slur. He heard laughter and then it faded into the night. Just like Chris’ consciousness.


	3. November 10th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Piers is really out of character and probably will be for the vast majority of the story. I'm sorry!
> 
> *WARNINGS*
> 
> For: Panic Attacks

Of course, it always happens the same way…

Red eyes that gleamed in the night.

Laughter that rippled through the darkness.

And pain.

An unbelievable and unbearable amount of pain. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. Not when Wesker had crushed his jaw and shattered his bones in cruel delight.

No, no, no, _no_, -_please_.

“Chris. Chris!”

A voice was calling out to him from a foreign place and Chris sought it out. Without thinking, without seeing, he fled for his life. As fast and as far as his mind could take him.

His eyes flashed opened and he sat up in the bright confines of his room. Chest heaving and skin glistening.

“_Fuck_.” he gasped.

When he looked up he wasn’t expecting to find Piers of all people sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at him the same way Claire did whenever she woke him up.

“It’s ok, you’re ok.” Piers was saying. He gently rested a hand on Chris’ trembling shoulder and shifted closer. “Chris-…it was just a dream.”

_But it hadn’t been._

His nightmares were the makings of a once-lived reality. And there was no way he could ever escape that.

Chris brushed the hand off and shook his head. Staring down at the sheets so that Piers couldn’t see just how broken he was inside. His breaths were still unsteady and he struggled to reign in the steadfast disposition he used to wear so well.

“…what are you doing here?” he asked once he recollected his thoughts. Piers shifted uneasily on the bed.

“We got back kinda late. So Claire offered to let me sleep on the couch downstairs. She left pretty early for work this morning.”

“This morning?” Chris questioned.

Piers rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Uh…it’s afternoon?” he sounded unsure of himself. Unsure if telling Chris would keep him in one piece.

“What?”

“I thought it’d be best if you slept in.” Piers explained.

“And miss work?” Chris nearly gritted out.

Piers gave him a pointed look.

“Come on. Everyone knows you deserve a break.”

“And who are you to decide- ugh- just forget it.” Chris muttered, turning away from him. He heard Piers fidgeting on the bed again.

“um…I’ll uh… just wait downstairs then?”

Chris didn’t answer and he heard the younger man quietly sigh before he slowly sulked out of the room. The older man released his own exhale of enervation before rubbing his hands over his face.

He stood up and went to the bathroom. And it was only after washing his hands and his face along with the last traces of his recent nightmare away, did he realize he hadn’t exactly been fair to Piers. He hadn’t exactly been fair to Claire either. Or to anyone really.

Least of all himself.

Chris turned off the sink and looked into the mirror to see tired lines beneath his eyes, messy hair that stuck out sideways and a depressing shadow of stubble setting across his features.

He let out another deep breath and gnawed on his lower lip.

“When did you become such a fuck up?” he asked his reflection.

But the answer was rather obvious.

_The day that Wesker knocked on your door._

//////////

When Chris walked downstairs Piers was in the kitchen with the thrum of a microwave filling the silence. The younger brunette turned towards the sound of Chris’ footsteps and gave him a small smile.

“Hey, uh- your sister left some breakfast for you. She said I could have some too if I promised to warm it up the minute you got out of bed.”

“Thanks but you didn’t have to-” Chris trailed and gave Piers a sheepish look. “You didn’t have to do any of this, you know. You didn’t have to walk me home or stay at my side…”

“We’re partners.” Piers interjected. “It's what partners do.”

Chris relented and walked over to the dining table to take a seat.

“Thanks, pal.” Chris murmured.

He heard Piers make a sound behind him. One that seemed surprised and even cajoled.

“…he called me pal.” Piers whispered to himself.

A smile slowly grew on Chris’ mouth and he fought against the impulse to laugh.

“I can hear you whispering.” called Chris over his shoulder. Piers made another noise, this one sounding mortified of all things.

“I- I wasn’t!” he denied.

The microwave dinged and the younger brunette made quick work of retrieving their breakfasts. Claire had made them biscuits and gravy with sausage and eggs. Piers set the plates down on the table and retrieved some freshly brewed coffee.

They both ate in silence for the first few minutes until Piers broke it with some stilted small talk.

“So… did you enjoy last night?” Piers asked hopefully. Overtly avoiding the events of this morning. Chris didn’t say anything for a while as he picked at the food on his plate but he eventually answered.

“Yeah. It was great.” Chris spoke, looking up at Piers.

The younger man was sitting in a ray of sunlight, like the sun itself constantly followed Piers wherever he went. Golden light kissed his skin and accented those soft yet distinct features, giving him the look of a crafted bronze statue. Chris realized then that Piers wasn’t wearing what he wore last night. He was wearing a familiar pair of baggy sweatpants and an old T-shirt that was a size too big.

Chris lifted an amused eyebrow. The younger brunette looked over at him after the long stretch of silence.

“What is it?”

“Are those my clothes?” Chris asked. Piers glanced down at himself before shooting his gaze away and awkwardly sputtering.

“I- er… Claire said you wouldn’t mind…” He looked increasingly flustered.

“I don’t. I just…” and Chris stifled his laughter, stabbing his fork into his eggs. “…I don’t mind. Not at all.” Chris reaffirmed. If he was being honest, he thought Piers looked kinda cute in them.

Not that he was thinking of Piers in that way. They were only partners of course.

Totally professional.

“Well, I had to wear something after you…” Piers then became quiet and Chris gave him an inquisitive squint.

“After I…?” Chris spoke slowly. Piers was turning redder but not due to his own embarrassment.

“…after you threw up on me.”

Chris gawked. His fork clattering on his plate.

“I _what?_”

Piers was already shrugging and looking anywhere but at Chris.

“It’s not a big deal really. Should’ve known the cab ride would make you motion sick-”

“Geezes.” Chris uttered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Piers shot his gaze back at him, quick to steal the older man’s guilt.

“Don’t be! It was my idea to take you out in the first place.”

“Yeah but… I shouldn’t have drank so much.” Chris said, eventually going back to picking at his plate. “I almost blame Sheva. She’s kind of a hard person to keep up with. Both in a bar and on the field.”

Piers’ gaze turned curious.

“How long were you guys partners?”

Chris grew quiet, sawing at one of his biscuits with his fork a little too hostilely as memories of Africa began to resurface in his head.

“…as long as it took to kill Wesker.” Chris informed in a far off voice that matched the look in his eyes. “…not that we actually killed him…”

Piers looked down and poked at his own food.

“I’m sorry.” the younger man emanated softly. “I…probably shouldn’t have brought it up-”

Chris shook his head and brought his attention back to the present.

“No, don’t be… O’Brian actually said it’d be better if I talk about it…”

“…do you want to?” Piers asked after a short pause.

“I mean, I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s constantly on my mind anyway.” Chris’ expression became chagrined. “Even when I’m not fully conscious.” He added quietly, almost reproachfully. Piers was vigilant enough to pick up on it.

“Your dream?” the younger man inferred. Chris nodded, lifting up his mug of coffee.

“I’m sorry about this morning. You were just trying to help-” Chris began.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control what you dream about.”

“Maybe so… But I dream about it almost every night.”

“About what exactly?”

“…about Christmas.” answered Chris, taking a drink from his mug.

Piers looked down at his food again, looking like he was the one who got his ass kicked. It was kind of heartening to see Piers always so affected with Chris’ own pain but Chris wished it didn’t affect the younger man so much, if only because it reminded him of a kicked puppy

“I know you read the reports but… nothing could ever sound the same on paper. Seeing Wesker again after thinking he was dead… getting beaten within an inch of my life... it was the scariest thing I've ever experienced. No zombie or any other B.O.W. for that matter, has ever made me feel that way before.” Chris explained, looking down at the contents of his mug and giving it a swirl. “…but that wasn’t even the worst part about all of it.”

Piers was quiet. Just sitting there and watching Chris with worried yet comforting eyes, wordlessly declaring that he was here for the older brunette. And Chris actually felt relieved, like there was a weight lessening off his chest as he continued to speak. He took another sip of his coffee.

“… the worst part about it was _afterwards_. After Wesker broke every bone in my body I ended up at the hospital. And when I woke up he was there. He was there… with Leon of all people. I didn’t understand… I still don’t fucking understand. Why was Leon with Wesker? Why the fuck is everyone saying that Leon _chose_ Wesker? That Leon’s our enemy now. That he’s…” Chris stopped and let out a small frustrated breath. His anger was rising faster than his thought process.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Chris muttered. “You didn’t know Leon but I did. He’s not that kind of guy. And I just don’t understand how everyone could give up on him like that.”

Piers remained unobtrusive, letting Chris vent it out.

“I know that bastard has something to do with it. Wesker must’ve… somehow manipulated Leon into following him or something. Fuck, I don’t know. I just know Leon isn’t a bad guy. He’s saved the fucking world for crying out loud.” Chris stated.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about the famous exploits of Agent Kennedy.” admitted Piers. Chris peered up at him and Piers was quick to add, “Well, it’s kinda hard not to when he saved the president’s daughter.”

Chris smirked.

“Yeah… he’s done a lot more than that too.” Chris’ gaze turned distant again, reminiscent of old days gone by. “…which is why no one should give up on him. Especially considering that fucking asshole is involved.” Chris gritted out through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes and waited for the anger to subside again. After a few seconds ticked by, he was able to speak calmly once more.

“…I used to look up to him, you know.” Chris expressed in a soft voice. Piers looked bemused at first.

“Leon?”

A small scoff escaped Chris before he could stop it.

“Heh, no…. I mean, yeah I’ve looked up to Leon before because who the hell hasn’t? The guy is the epitome of perfection. Even his hair is fucking perfect.” Chris smiled, though, it soon disappeared as he went on, “But he’s not who I’m talking about.”

“Oh…” Piers said in a thoughtful tone. “…Wesker then.”

“Yeah. Back when I was in S.T.A.R.S and he was my captain. Back when no one knew just who he really was behind the title and those fucking sunglasses. He really seemed like a standup guy back then. Always bettering the team in some way, giving us tips. Hell, even guiding us when we needed help.” Chris let out a disjointed sigh. “Shit, I wanted to _be_ him. Not exactly in the surpassing sense. But… in the sense of wanting to make him proud. To my younger self, he just seemed so cool. So collected. Like nothing affected him. And I thought if I could ever make a captain like that proud of me then it would feel like the world was proud.” Chris closed his eyes again, shaking his head slightly. “I know it sounds fucking stupid.”

“No.” Piers was quick to oppose. Chris opened his eyes and he saw that Piers was looking off to the side, skin a soft glow in the slanted sunlight.

“It doesn’t sound stupid… I… know the feeling.” Piers said quietly, almost whispered it to himself.

At hearing those words, Chris couldn’t stop the crawl of a pink tint washing over his face. He wondered if Piers had meant that he looked up to someone from the army during his training. But the younger man’s manner alone made it quite clear who he was thinking about.

“I-…w-well..” Chris stuttered.

He wasn’t sure what to say or how to handle that. He’s not sure if anyone’s looked up to him before but now knowing that someone did, it wholly scared the shit out of him.

Because what was there to look up to? Chris wasn’t his strong confident self anymore. He couldn’t even walk home by himself. He was just a pathetic and foolish agent that couldn’t finish one job in Africa. There wasn’t anything worth admiring about him.

But apparently Piers saw something in Chris worth fighting for. And if Chris couldn’t speak for himself, he could definitely speak for the younger brunette and for his undying loyalty he’s thus far showed.

“Piers… I _am_ proud.”

Piers became stock still, staring at Chris like he couldn’t believe he was hearing those words.

“Maybe I don’t have any right to say that. I’m not exactly a good role model to aspire to. But Piers, who the hell wouldn’t be proud of you? You’ve been the perfect partner so far and yeah we haven’t been out on the field or anything but you’ve been there for me every step of the way. I’m sorry I don’t always show it or that I don’t always say it but I’m honestly grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And I’m not just talking about with this morning and last night and everything… but for listening as well.” said Chris, regarding Piers appreciatively. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Piers remained quiet for the longest time, looking like he was having trouble processing those words. But just when Chris was starting to worry he might’ve said the wrong thing, Piers returned Chris’ smile with a warm one of his own.

“It’s what I’m here for, Chris.”

//////////

After they ate breakfast Piers announced that he already had plans for their day. Which caught Chris slightly off guard but he ultimately accepted to go along with the younger man since work was already out of the question.

They both hopped into Piers’ green Tahoe and were soon making their way down the open highway.

“So where are we going?” Chris asked.

“You’ll see. Let’s just call it a surprise.”

Chris sighed and turned his head toward the window.

“I’m not exactly a big fan of surprises…” he grumbled to himself, remembering how his last surprise on Christmas had turned out. But he wasn’t kept in suspense for too long because soon, they pulled into the parking lot of an airsoft range.

Chris shot Piers a cynical look as he turned off the car.

“Airsoft? Really?” Chris said derisively. He shook his head. “Look man, I know you might not have hit puberty yet but this type of stuff is-”

Chris was met with an equally annoyed stare from his partner.

“This type of stuff may very well be what you need right now.” Piers finished for him. “I know O’Brian won’t let you do any field training because you’re still recovering and all that. So I thought we could start here instead. It’s the closest thing you’ll get to shooting a gun.”

“Yeah, a fake one.”

Piers got out of the vehicle.

“Clearly you don’t know what you’re in for, old man.”

“Hey!” Chris barked but the driver’s side door was promptly shut. Chris scowled and muttered to himself. “…I’m not that old.” He opened the door and got out.

He followed Piers into the lobby where they paid their entrance fees and were then taken to what looked like a fancy armory with a wide selection of guns that ranged from rifles to pistols and vests to helmets that looked like the real deal. Chris was rather surprised by the look of them.

“Are these actually bullet proof?” Chris uttered, picking up one of the black tactical vests. He heard Piers smirking somewhere behind him.

“Airsoft proof. I mean, you’ll still feel it but… not as much.”

“Hm… Well, I’ve had worse.” said Chris, slipping it on.

Piers went quite at that, probably not knowing what to say and it had Chris slightly regretting it. He hadn’t meant to offhandedly bring up the past, yet it was always something he couldn’t help doing.

The older brunette wondered if that was also one of the reasons why Piers brought him here today. To help him take his mind off the things that were bothering him.

Even though it was hardly working, Chris could at least appreciate the gesture. He didn’t say anything else for the time being as they picked out their weapons and headed out onto the playing field.

“Okay so… what are the rules?” Chris asked as they both walked over to the starting line.

“Well, they have different types of simulations. I thought first maybe we could do some target practice with a run through.”

“A run through?”

“Yeah, we pretty much run through the woods and hit any targets that pop up in front of us. We can’t hit friendless though… So like, women and children-”

“That kinda goes without saying.” Chris cut in, feeling like Piers was treating him like an idiot. The younger man hid his smile by looking the other way.

“I just thought I should warn you. They pop up out of nowhere.”

“Kind of like you did in my life.” Chris muttered to himself. Piers looked back at him.

“What?”

A horn blared through the air, causing both men to slightly startle. Chris instantly went into agent mode and doubled down, holding up his rifle sized airsoft gun to scan the perimeter.

“What the fuck was that?” Chris asked.

“Oh shit, that was the signal. Come on!” Piers took off into the woods and Chris quickly followed after him. He soon found out just how hard it was to keep up with the younger man and it surprised him. It was the first time seeing Piers at his maximum effort.

“Fuck-“ Chris huffed, tempted to stop for a breather and lean against a tree. “Wait- why are we running?”

“We’re being timed!” the voice came from deeper within the woods and it was instantly followed by a quick succession of airsoft shots.

“What?” Chris exclaimed, pushing himself to go faster. “That’s bullshit.”

A target suddenly popped up in front of him causing him to jump back and lose his balance. He fell into the shrubbery, his airsoft gun concurrently firing off. A rustle of leaves and bushes trampled close to his position and a moment later, Piers’ face appeared above him.

“Chris! Are you ok?”

Chris grunted and staggered to his feet. Piers held out an arm to steady him.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just wasn’t expecting to burst out of the gates like that…”

Piers looked over at the wooden target that had startled Chris. The younger man made a disappointed sound as he tapped a knuckle against it.

“Bummer. This one was a friendly.”

Once recomposed, Chris took in the details of the painted face of a women in an apron. One of his airsoft bullets had landed in the center of her chest. Chris scrunched up his face.

“Why the fuck would she be in the middle of the woods in an apron anyway?” Chris demanded. It caused Piers to laugh.

“It’s just a game.”

“Yeah… a dumb one.” Chris grumbled, reloading his gun. Piers brushed shoulders with him companionably.

“Come on. We have to make up for lost time. And shooting a friendly gets us negative points.” said Piers. His words were far from any ridicule or disappointment. More like boosting encouragement. It gave Chris the incentive he needed to regather his wits and follow Piers deeper into the forest.

They ran through the trees side by side, Piers took the right flank and Chris automatically took the left, both men shooting at any targets that popped up from behind the trees or overhead in the branches. The older brunette made sure not to shoot any friendlies this time and he found that the both of them naturally worked well together, all things considered. He supposed O’Brian had a knack for ideal pairings after all.

Soon they saw a red rope that was tethered from one tree to another to signify the end of the drill and Piers sprinted on ahead.

“Race you to the finish line!”

“You do realize that I automatically have the disadvantage here!” Chris called out, but that didn’t stop him from running after the younger man. Piers huffed out a laugh and slowed his pace, turning around to give Chris a leering grin.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give you a head start.” relented Piers. Chris chuckled.

“As if I’d need one-” he stopped midsentence when another target launched up right next to the red line. “Shit, look out!”

It was different from the others. There was a man painted on this board but the man wasn’t alone. There was a girl with him too. And he had her in a choke-hold with a gun aimed at her temple.

The sound of a wooden snap got Piers to quickly turn around with his gun held up but Chris was already filling the wooden target with airsoft rounds. His aim didn’t falter, each bullet firing into the man’s head over and over again without hesitating.

With each shot a profusion of satisfaction burst through his nerves. With each shot a memory shattered his vision. In front of him was no longer the image of a wooden target and a fake hostage.

In its place was the face of a man Chris wished he could forget. In that death iron grasp was a girl Chris wished he could save.

_No, Claire!_

_“Chris!”_

He could hear her voice calling out to him so clearly. Could hear it even as he fell through the sky, down five levels of terror before plummeting into the ground below.

“Chris!”

He felt himself getting shaken, getting woken, from a nightmare he usually lived through the hours of darkness.

“Chris! Chris! Snap out of it!” Piers called, shaking him roughly by the shoulders. Chris blinked and finally returned to his senses. His chest was heaving, his muscles were locked up and he tried as hard as he could to let go, to relax, to… to just forget everything that happened on that horrific night.

But how could he ever forget?

The phantom touch of pain around his neck, in his bones… and even in his head was something he could never escape.

“It’s ok.”

He could hear Piers' voice. It was close. Just like his breaths. They felt warm against Chris’ face.

“You’re ok.”

He wasn’t though. He could feel his limbs starting to tremble. Could feel his eyes starting to sting.

“Hey,” and Piers hands grasped his own, their guns clattering onto the ground somewhere far away in Chris’ hectic mind. The younger man was still talking but his voice sounded muffled behind the heavy and raspy breaths that refused to subside.

Then Piers drew closer, so close, he pressed his forehead against Chris’ own. And after a moment of steady contact only then did Chris’ breaths start to flow with ease. His inhales soon matched Piers’ inhales. And their exhales soon mingled together. He was automatically breathing with the younger man, as if Piers alone was giving him the oxygen he needed.

After a while, the frantic thumps of Chris’ heart became slow and steady with the rush of blood no longer filling his ears.

Chris could hear the peace and harmony of the forest: a few birds chirping, the rustle of leaves in the wind. He opened his eyes, not even conscious of when he’d closed them, and looked at Piers who was looking back at him with worry.

“You with me?” Piers asked, his words just a puff of breath between them. Chris grew aware of how close they were. Of how the younger man’s skin felt temperate against his own.

Warm.

And even inviting in a protective kind of way.

“I’m with you.”

//////////

They went home soon afterwards even though Chris had wanted to stay, if only to prove he wasn’t this fragile figurine that everybody else saw but Piers of course was there to tell him otherwise.

“Don’t feel bad about what happened. It’s normal.” Piers assured. “… but we don’t ever have to do that again if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I can’t handle it.” Chris was swift to defend his pride. He stared out the window as they drove down the road, hiding the combination of anger and shame that twisted in his gut.

“I know…” Piers said softly. “But I shouldn’t have pushed you into it.”

“You didn’t push me.” Chris said steadily. “I’m the one whose been complaining about not being able to do anything… You were only trying to help.” He finally turned away from the window to stare at Piers who was keeping his eyes on the road. But even though the younger man wasn’t looking at him, Chris didn’t doubt he could still see from his peripheral vision. He gave Piers a faint smile.

“Thank you” Chris said quietly. “…thank you for being there.”

Piers then shot a quick glance over at him before turning back to the road. His eyes warmed up at Chris’ gratitude.

“Don’t mention it.”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that and the both of them fell into companionable silence on the rest of the ride home.

//////////

When they got home it was nearly dark and Claire was there to greet them. Both men had barely crossed over the threshold into the kitchen before Claire appeared out of nowhere and captured Chris in a tight hug.

“Chris! I was starting to wonder where you ran off to.” she glanced over at Piers to give him a nod in acknowledgement. “Keeping him safe I hope?”

“Claire.” Chris all but griped, untangling himself from her clingy arms. “I don’t need protecting. Besides, all we did was shoot some airsoft.”

Claire tensed up at that and her gaze instantly hardened as she leveled Piers with a glare.

“Airsoft? I tell you to give Chris a day to relax and you take him to airsoft?”

Chris was slightly startled with her tone and reaction. He wasn’t sure what the big deal was.

“Claire-…what the hell? It wasn’t like he kidnapped me.” Chris was quick to divert her anger to him but that didn’t stop the look of guilt washing over Piers’ face.

“That’s not the point, Chris!” she snapped, whirling around to fix a glare on her brother. “You’re still healing-”

“I can get around just fine!” it was Chris’ turn to snap.

“That’s not what I mean! You’re still recovering from the trauma, both physical and psychological. Putting you in an environment like that was reckless and irresponsible.”

“You’re right.” Piers said, quicker then Chris was partial to. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

Chris scowled and turned to his sister.

“Damn it, Claire. You’ve been treating me like I’m fucking breakable and I’m not! Maybe my body was but I’m still here. And Piers has been nothing but supportive and encouraging throughout this whole process. He’s been pushing me to my limits, pushing me to be better then what I am!” Chris was shouting now. Frustrated at Claire. Frustrated at himself because in truth, she was right. He’d had an episode today and it only proved that he wasn’t ready to face the world like he had thought he was.

But he didn’t want to admit it. It would only make Claire that much more protective, that much more insecure and the last thing he needed was being held back by his sister’s worst fears.

“Why are you always trying to keep me from being who I am?” Chris asked, his features fluctuating from resentment to dejection. “Have I really disappointed you?”

Claire looked up at him, her eyes turning red until they started to glisten in the light.

“Chris…” her voice tightened up ruefully, understanding how irrational she must seem. “…I just don’t want to lose you.”

In her eyes Chris saw how scared she was. How hurt she was… as if all those moments that had transpired on Christmas were flickering through her thoughts whenever she looked at him.

“Claire, you’re not going to lose me.” Chris vowed softly. He walked over to her and gently wrapped her in his arms. Claire instantly melted into the embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as her own arms wrapped around his waist. Chris felt a shaky breath dampen the fabric of his shirt as she let out a tired exhale and he rubbed a hand over her back in a motion of comfort.

“You know I’d crawl through hell just to make sure you’re not alone.” he whispered.

Her arms squeezed around him tighter, like she was afraid he might disappear at any moment but in her voice was the resolution of her belief in him.

“…I know.”

//////////

Later on, Claire had retired to her bed and Chris had rejoined Piers in the living room where the younger man looked slightly out of place with an episode of Prison Break playing on TV.

“Is she…going to be alright?” Piers asked cautiously. Chris nodded before plopping onto the couch next to his partner.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine.” Chris said, but the words sounded more self-assuring then reassuring. He let out a heavy sigh and gave Piers an apologetic look. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.” Piers stated quickly. “… I can understand how she feels.”

“Really?”

Piers was staring straight ahead, not so much at the TV, but past it.

“She’s worried about you. In more ways than one. And maybe you think she doesn’t need to be but after what she’s seen… I’d say it’s completely reasonable.”

Chris didn’t say anything for a few moments, ultimately coming to the conclusion that Piers was right. And now that he was thinking about it, he felt kinda bad for yelling at his sister earlier. She was only trying to protect him. Something that Chris wasn’t at all used to.

“…I know.” Chris spoke deliberately. “I just… I wish I could take that fear away.” His voice had grown quieter, more culpable. “…I used to be able to take it away all the time.”

Memories of lightning and thunder flashed in his head. A small hand in his own. A whimper drowned out by the rain. It was moments like those, in the chaos of a storm, where Chris would forever be idolized as that protective shield for his little sister. A shield that would forever be there for her. To guide her, to keep her from harm. To be the stronghold that she could always fall back on.

…if only that shield hadn’t been broken.

“Are you ok?” asked Piers. And Chris hadn’t realized when his vision had grown blurry or when his eyes had started burning. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times, pointedly looking away so that his partner couldn’t see his expression.

“Yeah- yeah. I’m fine.” Chris said, his words cracking slightly.

“I know you’re going through a hard time right now... I just hope you realize that I’m here for you.” said Piers. “Even when you don’t want me to be.”

Chris looked over at him. A short breadth of silence passed before a slight curve lifted the corners of Chris' mouth.

“I might’ve felt that way in the beginning… but not anymore. I’m actually glad that you’re here.” admitted Chris openly. Hesitating on his next choice of words but eventually giving in to saying them. “I’m glad I’ve got someone to lean on.” He never would’ve thought he’d say those words but here he was… humble and obliged.

Piers emitted a quiet chuckle.

“My shoulder is always free.”

Chris laughed in turn.

“That’s good. Cause I could use a pillow right about now.”

Piers looked a bit surprised but not at all against the suggestion. Chris flipped the TV remote in his hand and smirked.

“Wanna binge watch some Riverdale before you go home?”

“That show is trash.” Piers couldn’t help but comment. Chris laughed again.

“Yeah well, it helps me sleep.”

Piers snickered and nodded his head. He scooted down the couch so that he was closer to Chris.

“Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Hours later and a few episodes into the season, Piers was sound asleep and Chris was having trouble keeping his eyes open to the drama that was playing out on the screen. He had his head resting on Piers’ shoulder just as the younger man had offered and one side of his body was pleasantly warm from the contact.

As his eyes blinked shut for the hundredth and final time, he couldn’t stop the overwhelming sense of peace and security he felt while listening to the gentle breaths of his sleeping partner.

For a moment, a heavy and long lasting moment, he thought that maybe this was all he needed in life. Maybe revenge didn't matter anymore. Maybe there was only one thing Chris needed in order to be happy.

And it was sitting right next to him.


	4. November 28th

When Chris woke up he felt warmer then he had in a long time. Hell, he can’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable. He’s so used to waking up covered in cold sweat and shaking from a night terror that he’s forgotten what it’s like to wake up all normal and relaxed for once.

His eyes crinkled in the early morning sun and he turned his head into the shoulder next to him. A toasty and woodsy kind of smell filled his nose.

“hmm?” a soft sound reached his ears as Piers stirred awake.

It was then that Chris remembered how they’d stayed up all night watching TV and subsequently fallen asleep on the couch together. He blinked the fog out of his eyes and moved away from his partner. The younger man was already stretching his arms over his head and giving out a long yawn, his shirt rising a little over the hemline.

Chris quickly dragged his gaze away from the tempting glimpse of skin and started to get up to stretch as well, his face heating up at the comprehension of being slumped against the other man.

“Well, look whose finally up.” a voice descended from the stairs along with one amiable redhead. “You two sleep like a couple of bears. I already made breakfast. I stored it in the microwave.” said Claire, moving towards the front door while adjusting her blouse. Chris looked at her in startlement, still in the process of waking up. He gave his sister a confused look.

“Um… thanks?… Wait, where are you going?”

“To work.” she said, pointing at the stretch of sunlight that was already halfway across the room. She got to the door and opened it, walking through until just her head was left in view.

“Hope you have a good day.” She gave him a wink, a smile lifting her features. One that told Chris that she wasn’t angry about last night.

As always with her, a new day meant a fresh start. And it appears she was set on starting today off on the right foot. “Don’t do anything too wild.”

“Er-“ before Chris could counter that he wasn’t some crazy teenager anymore, she shut the door and left them alone. “Huh.” he hmphed in the silence, then looked down at Piers. Who was still sitting on the couch and looking straight ahead. His cheeks were a blazing red.

Chris let out a small chuckle.

“Don’t worry about her. She wouldn’t even stay mad at a bee if it stung her.”

“…Cool.”

Chris laughed again before motioning towards the kitchen.

“Well, wanna get some breakfast?”

//////////

They ate breakfast in much the same way they did yesterday. Making ample small talk and overall just enjoying each other’s company.

It felt nice.

And it brought Chris a sense of normalcy. Something he’s been in desperate need of ever since… the incident.

“Hey,” Chris started. Piers looked up from his plate of bacon and eggs. “…uh, thanks for spending the night.” Chris hoped he didn’t make that sound too awkward. Because it wasn’t everyday he cuddled with someone on the couch. The last time he did that was when he was in… high school?

Shit. He couldn’t even remember.

“Er…” He cleared his throat. “I just want you to know that it meant a lot- It _means_ a lot to me that you were there…. I… I actually didn’t have any nightmares for once. And it was nice. It… it was nice to have you around.”

Fuck, he sounded like a meathead.

All he wanted was for Piers to know how important it was to him to have a decent night’s rest for once. But Chris was never good at expressing himself without the help of a gun or knife.

He peeked up at Piers and saw that the younger man’s expression was soft and content in a way that he’s never seen before.

“Don’t worry about it.” The younger man looked back down at his plate and picked apart the rest of his food.

There was a little redness on his face though. That blush hadn’t left since Claire talked to them this morning. And honestly, Chris couldn’t help but think how adorable it was. Yet as soon as the thought crossed his mind the sooner he pushed it away. After all, they were only partners.

Totally professional.

////////

As time went on, they did more stuff together. Simple and domesticated stuff that normal people with normal lives would do. And it actually made Chris _feel _normal. As normal as one could be after all the horrific scenarios he’s lived through.

At least he didn’t have as many nightmares anymore. And it was mostly because Piers started making it a habit to stay over and crash on his couch after a night at the bar or a TV show marathon. Not that Chris was complaining. He was actually beginning to enjoy those little TV binges they did now and then. Even Claire was starting to get in on it too.

The notion made him smile.

He wasn’t aware of it at first but his entire life was feeling more at ease and normal with Piers around. His days weren’t so bleak anymore. His nights weren’t so dark.

Even the pain he once felt in his body and mind lessened a little every day. Things were a lot easier when his partner was there to lift the burden off his shoulders.

But for all the peace and quiet his life was becoming, he never forgot about the past.

Or about the friend that was left behind.

In whatever small hours of privacy he managed to get away from Claire and Piers, he was able to look through the files on his flash drive that he stole from the BSAA. And when Chris finally got a good look at those records, he realized why O’Brian had kept him from going into the case.

It was because the bureau themselves hadn’t made any real progress in their investigation. Their records didn’t hold any clues on where Leon and Wesker had disappeared off to. They only had the basics of said individuals: their medical history, age, eye color, height and build, past occupations, etc…

No new information. Nor any clues that could help in locating them.

However, there was a list of relations that each individual had. The people on the lists ranged from relatives, past coworkers, acquaintances and friends.

Chris’ paid apt attention to one noteworthy name that caught his eye. A name that managed to make an appearance on _both_ lists.

//////////

It had taken a couple of days but Chris managed to dig up some contact information on an agent whose informant turned out to be none other than Ada Wong. Probably not the most surprising affiliation for a girl who frequently played both sides of the field.

It was late in the afternoon at the BSAA department and Chris had already completed the bogus paperwork O’Brian had given him earlier in the day.

Where fresh sunlight once streamed in through the office windows, darker rays now slanted in with an orange glow. Chris just finished putting together a missive. He’d been irresolute with his choice of words and what exactly he should say in order to get Ada to meet with him. But in the end he kept it simple, only stating he needed to see her as soon as possible to talk about Leon.

He knew that dropping Leon’s name would spark her interest. Especially considering their shared history in Raccoon City. At least, he hoped it would. Afterall, she was basically Chris’ last hope in solving this missing persons mystery.

He hit the enter button and sent the message, not at all caring about the internet trail he left behind. If the BSAA wanted to give him shit about contacting a spy then Chris was going to hurl that shit right back at them. In his opinion, they should’ve done this weeks ago.

“You doing ok?”

“-fuck!” Chris swiveled in his chair and gawked up at Piers, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Piers- fuck, give a guy a warning.”

“Er, sorry about that. What are you up to?” the younger brunette asked, leaning over his desk. Chris waved his hands over his computer screen.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Chris said unconvincingly.

He knew he sounded restless. From how much he’s been stressing over finding Leon, to uncovering a possible lead yet an unreliable lead at that, it was miracle that Chris’ chest hadn’t exploded from trepidation. He didn’t need his partner reporting to O’Brian so soon after he committed the crime.

Yet, he doubted Piers would actually do that. Chris had a good feeling about where the younger brunette’s loyalties lied. Especially after they’ve spent so much time together.

Piers gave him a funny look but decided to let it go.

“Okay...” he said while slowly sitting down at an empty desk next to Chris’ own. “Hey, so… I talked O’Brian into finally letting you go to the shooting range.”

Chris fumbled with the pen he’d started to anxiously twirl around.

“Wa- you…. You did?”

Piers gave him a nonchalant shrug and looked away.

“Yeah well, as your keeper I thought it was time.” said Piers.

Chris blinked, and then a smile involuntarily gripped the corners of his lips.

“Oh, so that’s what you’ve been this whole time? My keeper?”

It was Piers’ turn to suppress a smile.

“More like your guard dog.”

Chris let out a chuff. Piers laughed a little too but it quickly dwindled away.

“Joking aside, did you want to go? I mean, I didn’t want to just assume you wanted to or anything but I just thought… Well, we’re always exercising at the gym or going to the bars or binging TV… I thought you might want to do something different.”

Chris went quiet as he stared at his partner. Piers glanced up before quickly glancing away, looking self-conscious all of the sudden.

“Or if you don’t want to do that or… anything at all, like if you don’t even want to hang around me or if you’re tired of me… that’s cool too.”

“Piers.” Chris said and his eyebrows slanted down with a soft regard for the younger man. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve wanted this since the get-go. So hell yes I wanna go. And to answer your question, I’m not tired of being around you. Hell, I’d probably lose my mind if you weren’t around.”

Piers turned his head, his eyes slightly widened in surprised and his cheeks brightened a little.

“That’s a relief.” He said with a small laugh. “Cause I already set up a practice session.”

//////////

They went to the shooting range that evening after work. Chris was ecstatic to say the least. It seemed like ages since he’s fired a real gun and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on one.

The next few hours were a bit of a whorl for him. They got their hearing protectors, they got their guns, ammo, and then they took their positions.

When Chris finally got to hold a solid pistol in his hands and aim it up for the first time since forever, he couldn’t deny the wave of empowerment he felt to reclaim the control he once lost ever since Wesker came back.

He fired the gun. Each squeeze of the trigger resounded in his narrow line of sight with a dull _bang_.

It never wavered.

It never shook.

It all came naturally.

Like it always had in the past.

When the light turned red and they put their equipment on the table, the whirring of the cables filled the room as their paper targets reeled to a stop in front of them. A slow smirk conquered Chris’ face, seeing the array of bullet holes through the center of the human silhouette.

_I still got it._

He heard a low whistle beside him.

“Nice shooting.” Piers’ voice sounded loud in the now quiet room. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

Chris chuckled and glanced over at Piers’ own paper target. He lifted a brow in astonishment, seeing two holes through the heart and five in the head. Impressive.

“Not so bad yourself. I guess they didn’t make you sniper for nothing.”

Piers gave him a cocky smirk. “Only for my irresistible charm.”

That got Chris to laugh. He almost didn’t catch the way the younger man’s lips lifted up at the sound of it.

“Do you wanna go again?” Piers asked. Chris was already reloading another clip into his gun. He gave Piers an unmistakable look.

“Do you even have to ask?”

//////////

The evening went well. Chris was mainly just happy that he hadn’t gone completely soft when it came to a firearm. His aim was still pretty good and he didn’t have any flashback during the entire session. Not once.

Maybe it was because Piers was there to keep his mind off it, The younger brunette’s presence alone generally kept him grounded most of the time and Chris couldn’t help but be grateful.

He was starting to be grateful for a lot of things in his life.

Like the bar that they went to afterwards. Where they met up with Sheva, Jill and Claire. It was at one of their usual spots. A place with a billiards table that they staked and claimed with their horrible aim. Even more so when one too many beer bottles decorated the wooden edges.

“Please tell me you shot better at the shooting range.” Jill slurred and Chris missed spectrally while aiming his cue at the white ball. Mainly because he was laughing. Which prompted the rest of their small group to bust out laughing.

“…shuddup…” Chris countered, trying to keep himself steady but he was smiling and his cheeks were a rosy red. Both from the alcohol and his own embarrassment.

Geez, he really hoped Piers wouldn’t have to carry him home again.

Luckily though he was disciplined enough to keep himself from getting too shit-faced and the night ended with his mobility still intact.

When they left the bar, they parted ways with Jill and Sheva. Piers joined Chris and Claire on the taxi ride to their house. The three of them sat in the back seat. Halfway through the ride, Claire slumped her head on Chris’ shoulder. There was a dopey smile on her face and Chris chuckled. He can’t recall the last time she seemed so happy. She even looked proud when he told her about the shooting range. He was a little surprised that she didn’t get angry this time. Maybe that meant she was finally starting to believe in him again.

His eyes glanced up at his dim reflection in the window, catching sight of a smile he wasn’t even conscious of wearing and realized that she wasn’t the only one.

//////////

Late that night, after putting Claire to bed, Chris and Piers found themselves in the peace and quiet of the living room. It was hard for Chris to keep his eyes open at this hour of the evening, let alone in an environment that tempted him to sink right into the sofa.

The older brunette scratched the scruff under his chin and fought down the urge to yawn.

“So… You’re free to crash here if you want.” Chris offered, he didn’t feel like he needed to verbalize it though. Piers stayed over so often these days that he didn’t even ask for permission anymore.

His partner tilted his head to the side, mirroring Chris’ own motion of scratching his neck.

“Thanks… but… I think I better get home.” Piers said instead. Chris raised an eyebrow.

“You tired of me already, huh?”

Piers let out a laugh that was soft enough to not wake Claire.

“And how could anyone ever get tired of you?” He met Chris’ eyes, his mouth in the shape of an upturned crescent before he brushed it off and looked away. “Naw, I feel bad taking up your couch. Besides, I didn’t bring any spare clothes with me and I’d hate to keep stealing yours.”

“…excuses.” Chris mumbled. Piers smirked at the jib. The older brunette let it go with a shrug and bumped Piers on the shoulder with his fist. “Alright, pal. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” said Piers. He lingered for a moment, his eyes shifting back to Chris. “But…if you need anything, I’m a phone call away.”

Chris smiled and nodded. Not really knowing what else to say.

He walked Piers out the door.

“Be careful out there. Wouldn’t want you to trip over your own feet.” Chris called after him.

“You’re one to talk.” Piers retorted before flashing him a playful smile and disappearing down the dark road.

Chris shut the door, silence engulfing the room almost instantly. He let out a deep exhale, telling himself that there was no need to worry about anything tonight. He hadn’t had a nightmare in quite some time and he doubted they’d start up again just because Piers wasn’t around.

He turned away from the door but then froze as his eyes caught the shape and outline of a figure sitting in the very corner of the room. Their features remained hidden from the lamplight’s soft glow, until they leaned forward ever so gracefully to reveal a pretentious smile.

“Surprise.”


	5. Incognito

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been so long between updates. I've got my hand back into this story now and I've been adding a lot of changes and deleting a chapter. (I did so because I wanted the overall anticipation to be higher later on in the story) This whole story definitely is a work in progress and I'm so sorry if I disappointed anyone while I made changes. But I hope you continue to like it and I thank you all so much for reading and sending me love <3 I really appreciate it. Thank you all for all the lovely comments. They really are so sweet ^_^ And for the kudos as well <3

The air in Chris’ lungs had gone stale, his body was left completely immobile from his initial shock but when he recognized the smooth curves of that leering face he quickly recomposed himself into a defensive stance.

“Ada…” he shifted a few feet towards the stairs, instinctively wanting to protect his unconscious sister from any potential threats.

Ada smirked and reclined back in her chair, looking completely lax for a person who broke into someone’s house.

“You wound me. Do you really think I came all this way to bring harm on you and your sister?”

“Hmph, if it was for the right price.” Chris retorted.

Ada smirked but didn’t rise to the challenge. She idly studied her fingernails.

“Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“Well, did you really have to break into my house?” Chris griped, voice and body still tense.

“Best to keep my presence unknown to as many people as possible. I’m currently working incognito.”

Chris gave a derisive snort.

“When are you not?”

Ada lifted her shoulder in a barely there shrug.

“You don’t want to talk about me, now do you?”

Recalling the missive he sent her way made Chris slowly relax as his concern for Leon’s whereabouts replaced his earlier apprehension. But only slightly. He gradually neared the opposite couch to cautiously sit down on it. Jaw stiff and eyes growing hard. His heartrate became irregular with anticipation. Wanting more then anything to know any helpful information she could give.

“Do you know where he is?”

Why else would she be here? Why else would she come all this way from god-knows-where and break into his house if she didn’t have the answer to his question.

She glanced at him, then away and about the room. Like she couldn’t seem any less interested with his presence.

The nerve of this woman.

But then she let out an exhale, a lungful of air that Chris didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“I read the reports, you know.”

Chris felt his tongue twist in his mouth as he parted his lips to speak.

“Th-those were classified.” Seriously, did everyone have to know how he got his ass kicked?

Ada smirked, her eyes darting over to his.

“Not to me.”

Chris should’ve expected that. There was hardly any information that she couldn’t find. It was why he asked her here in the first place.

“Okay, whatever. So you read them. But what does that have to do-”

“You got off easy.” Her interruption nearly had Chris choking on his own breath. He looked at her, stunned at first. Then confused. He was wondering what the hell she meant by that but he didn’t have to wonder for very long.

“He could’ve killed you.”

_Ah, so that’s it. _A glare was quickly forming on Chris’ face at the mere mention of what that psychopath did to him. He was just about to yell an expletive at Ada despite Claire still being asleep upstairs but Ada didn’t give him any room to vent his anger.

“Not that I really care what happens to you.” Ada added indifferently, and Chris would’ve felt insulted if it wasn’t for the fact that she was potentially holding important information. “But what about the rest of the world? Do you really think Wesker is going to sit quietly if you decide to come after him?”

“What the fuck- Do you think I care?” Chris retorted frustratedly. It seemed like at every turn people were trying to make excuses on how Chris shouldn’t be doing his _damn job_.

“Hm. So you’re not even going to take this seriously?”

“Of course this is serious!” Chris snapped, but he still had sense enough to keep his voice down. “Fuck, it seems like I’m the only one whose taking this whole ordeal seriously. No one else seems to give a shit what’s happening to Leon or if he’s even ok.”

Ada closed her eyes for a while before opening them again and giving Chris a look of sympathy. Her expression had changed from hard to soft.

“I get it. I really do. Because despite my solitary motto, I _do_ care for Leon. But if you really have any obligation to humanity then you’ll leave it alone. I’ve worked with Wesker before. I’ve known him long enough to understand that he isn’t the forgiving type. If he’s gone quiet all these months, then it’s because someone asked him too. Can’t you just be satisfied with that? My advice to you is to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Her eyes then flickered to the front door. Where someone once walked through only a few minutes ago. “Besides, there are more important things in your life.” Her gaze then lifted to the ceiling. As if she was seeing with x-ray vision through the plaster and up into the room where Claire was sleeping.

Chris stared at her for a few drawn out moments. Not really believing what he was hearing, or perhaps just not accepting it. After so many hours and days spent stressing out over his best friend, the one last person who might know where he is was giving him the runaround.

“I didn’t ask for your fucking advice.” Chris finally spoke. His words were an exasperated snarl. “I asked if you knew where he was.” He stood up from the couch to signal that this conversation would go no further unless he got what he wanted. “Now I’m going to ask you one more time, do you know where he is?”

“Never the listener, I see.” Ada tutted, looking unaffected by his threatening demeanor. She stood up as well, smoothing out her elegant clothes before giving Chris a dissatisfied look. She pulled out a piece of paper from her back pocket. The conflicted expression on her face told Chris that she’d been debating whether or not to give it to him.

But in the end, she held it out between her fingers.

“I don’t know his exact location but there’s a mercenary group in Switzerland. Reports of suspicious deaths reached some media outlets. I manage to gather some intel on the members of this mercenary group and one of the profiles matched Leon’s description. Can’t say for certain it’s actually him though.”

Chris swiped the piece of paper from Ada’s hand and unfolded it. The name of the town was Zürich in northern Switzerland, along with the coordinates of the mercenary hideout.

Chris looked back at Ada, who was already opening the front door for herself. But before she crossed over it’s threshold, she gave one final glance back at him.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”


End file.
